


midnights

by eternal_sky



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Indulgent, i miss them, this is just really soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternal_sky/pseuds/eternal_sky
Summary: Late nights are for just the two of them, and they wouldn't have it any other way.Alternatively: Sneaking out to visit Taeyong in the pouring rain is worth all the teasing and care Ten gets in return.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 21
Kudos: 159





	midnights

It’s absolutely pouring outside. Luckily, Ten is only a couple minutes away from his safe haven— a light blue room filled with doodles and one Lee Taeyong— but that doesn’t mean he isn’t already soaked to the bone. 

He’s prepared for the thorough scolding he knows he’ll receive. After so many years of hearing it, it doesn’t take much to imagine the man’s firm but gentle tone: _Carry an umbrella next time, that’s not healthy, be careful, please?_

But Ten doesn’t mind, content even as the rain seeps into his clothes and hair. His thoughts of a special someone are enough to keep him warm. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mark is there to greet him when he finally gets up to the fifth floor, watching him nearly slip on the stairs in his haste, winking and snickering before he disappears into another room. Ten rolls his eyes as the door clicks shut and continues down the hallway. 

His stomach twists with anticipation. Despite being confronted with the same dark cherry wood as always, his heart stutters in its cage momentarily. _It’s just Taeyong_ , he reminds himself. Inhaling deeply, he lightly taps his knuckles against it.

There’s the faint sound of shuffling, the chair rolling out and— what he assumes to be— headphones being set down on the hard table. 

The door swings open to reveal a freshly-showered Taeyong.

“Tennie…” There’s a million concerns on his tongue, but he bites them back for now. The boy is going to freeze to death, or at the very least, wake up with a cold if he doesn’t dry off soon. Taeyong takes his own towel from around his neck and wipes the droplets from Ten’s cheeks. 

“Hi, hyung,” he sniffles, smiling as the man pats his face down and ruffles his hair with the towel, leaving it atop his head to take his icy hands and lead him inside.

“You’re going to get sick if you stay in those clothes."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

He emerges from the bathroom smelling like eucalyptus and rosemary, slightly drowning in the clothes Taeyong lent him. 

Ten hums along to the song playing from the speakers as he dries himself off. He falters slightly when he notices the elder’s attentive gaze.

“What?” he asks softly, a little self-conscious. Taeyong has to tear his eyes away.

“Nothing, sorry…”

If he allowed himself to be selfish, he would answer. He'd tell Ten that he looks the prettiest in the dim lighting of Taeyong’s own room, as if the night’s moonbeams were made to kiss his golden skin. And he’d tell him how the water droplets shine like diamonds in his hair and how he deserves no less than that, no less than a crown of stars and silver lining his crescent eyes.

“Can I dry your hair?” he blurts out instead.

Ten pauses for a moment, but breaks out into that bottled-sunshine grin. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not,” he responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He gets up and pats the chair. “Sit.”

Taeyong stands between his legs. The second his hands are on him, a jolt of electricity runs down Ten's spine, shuddering under his touch. 

He rushes to apologize, but Taeyong squeezes his shoulder before he can get a word out. It’s something they’ve come to do before stages a lot— a gentle touch of reassurance, strength.

 _Breathe,_ he usually says. _There’s nothing to worry about._

Ten inhales, exhales.

“Good?” 

He nods, and Taeyong resumes working deft fingers ever so gently through his hair, his touch still light and tickling. He passes a small comb through it and smooths it down.

He closes his eyes, just focusing on the touches, the sounds. It’s easy to escape reality with Taeyong.

The sound of the blowdryer accompanies the quiet music playing in the room. They never seem to need words to fill their silence. _Telepathy,_ Ten had joked once, but now he thinks there might actually be some truth to it.

And then there's a familiar soothing feeling that takes Ten's breath away for a moment, when Taeyong's attention shifts to his nape, applying the slightest pressure. 

It'd be so nice to stay here, like this, forever, he thinks, and then Taeyong takes his hands away. He tries to suppress his whine but he must have expressed his discontent somehow, because Taeyong is chuckling when he opens his eyes again. 

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"It has."

They used to do this almost every day when Ten first moved out of the Dreamies’ dorm, up until their schedules ate away at their energy, leaving them both passed out in their respective rooms, alone. Taeyong lets his mind linger for a moment, to all the nights like these. 

Ten flops down onto the bed and rolls over. He stretches and yawns before settling into the soft sheets— ‘like a cat,’ Taeyong reminds him, for the millionth time. He's never been sure what to call these frequent visits. Hangouts? Meetings?

…Dates?

He goes pink at the prospect. 

Ten realizes he’s been zoned out for too long when Taeyong snaps him out of his reverie.

“Missed me?“ he teases, to which Ten scoffs and rolls his eyes, but his red ears give him away loud and clear. Yes, he did.

He talks to Taeyong about what he's been up to— dancing, vocal lessons, the Dreamies' typical mischief when they visit the WayV dorms. He doesn't mention their teasing about his "late night dates" with Taeyong, though, but Ten‘s face flushes again just thinking about it. Those kids know too much for their own good.

In turn, Taeyong tells him about things he‘s been working on. Songs, freestyles, choreographies, how he still sneaks out to go to the practice rooms.

He leaves out the fact that it’s _their_ practice room, the one they used all throughout BDS promotions, their vlives, and spontaneous late-night getaways.

“You sure you’re not in love with someone?” Ten asks, only half-joking, pushing himself to sit properly at the edge of the bed. Taeyong stays silent for a long moment, swiveling back and forth in his chair. Suddenly Ten regrets asking at all.

“I’m not sneaking out to meet them, if that’s what you mean.”

It feels like a punch in the gut. Taeyong’s in love.

“So there is someone?” 

Taeyong nods, treading carefully. “But we’re not dating. I doubt he even likes me back.”

Ten almost feels relieved, until guilt instantly consumes him, seeing Taeyong’s wistful expression. Insecurity doesn’t look right on him, especially about something like this. 

“You never know,” he tries to reassure him. “Do you... see eachother often?” 

Ten’s curiosity eats away at him. Nonetheless, he tries to stop himself from prying— it’s not supposed to be any of his business, but he finds some comfort in the fact that Taeyong trusts him with this.

“He’s the one that sneaks out to come here.” 

Ten frowns internally at that. That’s supposed to be _his_ thing, but he still puts on a big smile for Taeyong. 

“Trust me, that’s _exactly_ what someone in love would do. I would know.”

“Yeah?” Taeyong teases, finally glancing back up at him. “And just how many crushes of yours have you snuck out to visit?”

But Ten’s tongue slips, “Just you.”

Oh.

_Oh._

_This is it,_ Ten thinks. _This is how I ruin everything._

He doesn’t try to deny it. He can’t lie to Taeyong, and what’s done is done. He squeezes his eyes shut, only expecting to be rejected, to be pushed away and thrown back into the rain.

“Ten.”

“Ten, look at me, please.”

He doesn’t. He can’t. The air is too thick, he’s suffocating, he needs to leave.

“I need to know if you’re saying what I think you are. Please.”

Ten stands up, his body heated with shame. Looking at the ground, he chokes out, “I’m sorry, I’ll go─” 

But Taeyong is in front of him, his hands on his shoulders gently pushing him to sit down again. “I like you.”

Now he’s hearing things, right?

But he wants so badly for it to be true, to hear the words over and over from Taeyong’s lips.

Taeyong’s hands trail up his neck, cupping Ten’s cheeks and tilting his head upwards. Ten softens at the feeling, allowing his eyes to flutter closed.

“Say it again…” he whispers mindlessly, not expecting a response.

Taeyong’s voice fills his ears, a soft, deep whisper, “I like you, I’ve always liked you.” He smooths Ten’s hair back. “I think I’m in love with you.”

When he finally meets Taeyong’s eyes, they’re swimming with emotion, black coffee irises so tender and full of care. 

It’s the same gaze he’s always looked at him with, a mix of pride and admiration. It’s only now that Ten realizes those eyes are just for him. 

“I love you, too,” he breathes out, with a knowing smile that mirrors Taeyong’s. They were always meant to end up like this.

Ten feels a bit possessed, with the way he moves like Taeyong is his center of gravity, as he winds his arms around Taeyong’s neck. Taeyong’s hands draw him in closer by the waist, until their foreheads are pressed together and it feels so _good,_ so natural to be like this, with their breaths mingling.

Taeyong closes the distance, their noses brushing, and kisses the corner of his lips. It’s unbelievably delicate, and far too quick, but it shakes him to his core.

“Is this ok?” Taeyong asks him quietly, just to make sure. Ten appreciates the sentiment, he really does, but he might just lose it if he has to wait any longer.

Ten pulls him back by the front of his shirt, kissing him full on the mouth, and lets himself drown in the sensations— Taeyong’s smile against his, and his hands on him, and all that goes through his mind is Taeyong, Taeyong, _Taeyong_ — so much that he forgets about filling his lungs with air, because this is everything he needs right now. 

Taeyong pulls away, much to his discontent and laughs quietly, “ _Breathe_ ,” before pushing him down onto the mattress to claim his lips again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I was scared, you know,” Ten whispers, a little while later. “Thought someone else was stealing our late nights.” 

Taeyong breathes out a laugh as he slips under the covers, watching as Ten curls into his side. He presses a kiss to his temple.

“Don’t worry, my midnights are only for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for giving this fic a chance, feel free to play with me in the comments!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed ♥️
> 
> find me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/perpetuumcaelum)


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